


Snow and Ashes

by Delirious_Comfort



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 13:09:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18993280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delirious_Comfort/pseuds/Delirious_Comfort
Summary: "You promised," she chokes out."I know."





	Snow and Ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoaringJe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoaringJe/gifts).



There is a single drop of the reddest blood, slightly spattered on the whitest snow, right outside the gates of the Black manor.

She sinks through her knees, cocks her head to the side as her brows furrow. Her hand is trembling as she presses a finger against the red snow. It's frozen solid. Her heart beats faster in her chest as she looks straight forward, far beyond the gates and her eyes grow wider. She stands up straight, takes a shuddering breath and pushes the gates open. With every step she takes, snow crunches under her boots, a sound she usually thoroughly enjoys.

It reminds her of the days of her childhood. Snowball fights in the backyards, her parents who bring her a cup of hot chocolate as they sooth her tears because a snowball hit her straight in the face. Her mother who presses a single kiss against her swollen lower lip and her father who is lovingly stroking her back as soothingly as he can. The stories they tell her by the light of the fire in the living room, a fort built of pillows and sheets before they tuck her into bed and promise her that when she wakes up, the pain will be gone.

* * *

 

It reminds her of her first snowball fight with Harry and Ron at Hogwarts. Snowballs that whiz by her faster than she can duck and the smile on her face when Luna has a surprisingly good aim. Ron, who doesn't cry or even looks hurt, but retaliates all the same and before she knows what's happening, her face is wet with tears from laughter. It is pure happiness presented in a silver cup and she drinks from it greedily until she falls asleep in her warm bed, her friends close by. Her arms ache, but she knows when she wakes up, the pain will be gone.

* * *

 

It reminds her of Voldemort's demise and the death eater who betrayed him against all odds. At first, she thought it was snow that covered the Hogwarts ground as she countered curse after curse. Snow that covered the faces of those who died in a war they were too young to fight. But it was never snow.

It reminds her of Bellatrix Lestrange who wields her wand as if she's conducting an orchestra. Fire that slowly mutated into a giant pack of fiery beasts. They're surrounded by serpents, chimaeras and dragons. It destroys as Bellatrix instructs it too and Hermione looks on in amazement as she's only ever seen one wizard have such control over magic before.

It's only when Bellatrix calls for Harry Potter to step forward that Hermione realizes that it's ashes that are floating to the ground, before it settles there forever.

"Now, Potter," she says and cackles. "I trust you've done with dear old Snape wanted you to do?"

He nods at her and Hermione looks on in confusion. She tries not to look at the corpses that are still burning, the foul smell that is penetrating her nostrils in an everlasting assault.

The fiendfyre keeps Voldemort at bay as Bellatrix wields it around him. His tongue menacingly licking his lips as he tries to overthrow her.

"Then you know what I have to do."

"I'm ready," he says before turning around towards the crowd. "Don't interfere."

Hermione looks on in horror as Bellatrix yields her wand towards Harry and a single dragon surrounds him, consumes him as he screams. Beside her, Ron is screaming too, and the pitch of his screams hurt her ears. She clings to him with her hand on his arm, squeezes until his screams die down and all there is left is the sound of fire raging around them.

She stands up straight, aims her wand towards Bellatrix, feels something deep inside of her that she's never felt before. A raging thunder that deeply desires revenge.

"Don't do anything stupid, Granger."

"NOW!"

Bellatrix turns on her heels and as she does the fiery dragons surrounding Harry disappear, they rise high above him as Bellatrix's wand rises with them.

"For Draco," she hisses before turning her wand on Voldemort once more.

Hermione feels torn. Torn between wanting to run to Harry and wanting to watch the mesmerizing show that's unfolding in front of her. Something slivers on the ground, the hairs in the back of her neck stand up straight as it slithers right by her feet. It moves towards the fire, as if it's drawn to it, can't resist it.

As soon as Nagini disappears through the thickness of the fire, Bellatrix falls to the ground.

The fiendfyre is gone. A single body on the ground is all that remains. Voldemort is dead.

"Horcruxes," Harry says as he wraps his arms around her. "She destroyed mine. And Nagini. Voldemort was too weak to fight her."

* * *

 

It reminds her of Draco Malfoy's funeral. Snow covers the ground and Hermione moves her feet as much as she can to remind herself that it crunches. It's actual snow. There are no more ashes.

She watches from afar as Narcissa Malfoy falls apart, her body trembling and sobbing as her only son's coffin disappears beneath the crypt. A woman who will forever remain a mother, but no longer has a child.

She watches as Harry wraps his arms around the woman and helps her back into the Malfoy manor.

She watches as Ron looks at her helplessly and shrugs his shoulders.

She watches as several aurors surround Bellatrix Black, her head held up high, her shoulders straight and when Bellatrix turns her gaze to Hermione, she shivers.

She watches as Bellatrix mouths something to her, but she is too far away. She frowns and it's only when she moves in closer that she can hear Bellatrix's words.

"I promise. Never again."

* * *

 

She swallows thickly as she moves closer to the manor. There is more blood and it's only when she inhales through her nose that her eyes start to sting with the tears that burn within them.

Snow crunches beneath her feet and it reminds her of ashes.

Snow crunches beneath her feet and it reminds her of every person that died.

Snow crunches beneath her feet and it reminds of the parents who loved her so willingly and who she left to live out their lives not knowing they were parents in the first place.

Drops fall to the snow and she can hear it like an echo. It drips and drips, each drop louder than the last. It's only when she looks down that she notices they are tears.

* * *

 

Tears that remind her of Harry. The way he sobbed in her arms days after the wars when Ron's good-natured fist bumps were no longer enough. The way Ginny took over when Hermione could barely hold it together herself and sought comfort in Mrs. Weasley's arms. The way gentle hands stroked her back and soothed her to the best of their abilities until she was overcome with emotions and fled the house.

"I want to see her."

"You know you can't."

"I fought your stupid war," she yells then. "I fought. I lost. I won. Let me see her!"

"Very well."

Her body trembles as she walks up the stairs that take her to an isolated cell. A frail woman sitting on the bed, staring out a window that shows nothing but snowflakes dwindling down as if they have no care in the world.

She wraps her fingers around an iron bar. Holds her head up high. Tries to speak but nothing comes out.

"You shouldn't be here, pet."

She breaks down then. Tears and tears that fall onto the stone floor and splatter around like children playing in a pool. She sinks through her knees, her fingers still wrapped around the bar.

"There's nothing I can do for you."

"Promise me," she says then, finding her voice. "Promise me, again."

"I promise. Never again."

* * *

 

Tears that remind her of the day Bellatrix is released from her prison, only to be confined to another. A prison that has too many rooms, too few people and is far too silent.

Black manor has more wards than Hermione can count. All to contain the beast that resides in it. The beast she has visited every day for the last seven years.

At first, there was only the promise. Day after day until Hermione no longer cried. Then there were endless questions. Explanations. Arguments. Full blown fights. Apologies - from Hermione only, always. Stories.

Until there was only laughter. Jokes. Fingers that touched through bars only. Hands that moved hair behind ears. Eyes that glistened with desire. Mouths that were hungry for that which they could never consume. Instructed touches that were never quite enough.

And the tears that fell when Bellatrix gently as she could wrapped her arms around Hermione as they went through the same cycle again.

* * *

 

She's at the doors now. They're wide open. She closes her eyes, afraid of what she'll find inside. There are only two options, each more hurtful than the other.

She wants to call out but stops herself when she sees two bodies on the ground. One is breathing, the other is not.

"You promised," she chokes out.

"I know."

* * *

 

The promise reminds her of the first night they spend together. Touches that started out gentle and hesitant. Words that were uttered as backs arched. Wetness that pooled in places that hungry mouths could finally feed on. Promises that were whispered as heights were reached.

* * *

 

The promise reminds her of the day she moved into the manor. The happiness she felt that nothing could destroy. The smiles that only grew stronger with each day that passed. The utter and utter bliss of falling asleep every night knowing there would be no pain the next day.

* * *

 

That night, she curls up in bed. Fire crackles in the room that makes her nauseated. Outside snow falls and as her eyes close, she cries.

Cries for the woman she loved so much it hurt at times.

Cries for that same woman back in a cell that is no longer Black manor.

Cries for the innocent soul that perished at the hands of the woman who used those same hands to push live into her when she didn't think it was possible.

Cries for the broken promise that was never meant to be broken.

Cries because she knows... Tomorrow she will wake up and the pain won't ever go away. 

**Author's Note:**

> oops


End file.
